


Make It Work

by Cheshire_Hearts



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Biting, Kinktober 2020, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Piercings, Praise Kink, Prowl's working on a list, Tarn is not amused, Verbal Humiliation, not a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshire_Hearts/pseuds/Cheshire_Hearts
Summary: Prowl and Tarn have been promised to each other and this is the start of their marriage. It's not at all what either of them thought it would be, not anywhere close. Prowl wants to work, Tarn just wants Megatron's undivided attention for even a few seconds. Neither get what they want and end up with each other.But maybe they can make it all work out in the end?
Relationships: Prowl/Tarn (Transformers)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Day 1- The Start of the Rest of Our Lives Together

**Author's Note:**

> Doing this with kinktober prompts a friend made. I'm grabbing whatever I want when I want for this month and having fun with it. This story is gonna be a part of something bigger, maybe. Who knows.   
> I just fell in love with this pairing and am now in rarepair hell. Again.  
> Enjoy~

Prowl glared up at the purple tank looming over him, hoping his glare was strong enough to warn the mech to stop. Tarn wanted to be in charge of their relationship, something that normally didn’t bother Prowl in the least bit. He was pretty much fine with anything when it came to interfacing. What he couldn’t stand though, was a partner who tried to get their way by mech handling him without his permission to do so.

“What do you think you’re doing,” Prowl infused his voice with as much icy disdain as he could in case his glare wasn’t working.

Tarn paused for a second, his hold loosening on Prowl’s shoulder and thigh. The Praxian used his distraction to shove both servos off of himself and twist his frame around, pulling the startled tank off balance before pushing him onto the berth. Tarn blinked up at him and Prowl smirked.

“This is interfacing and a new relationship, Tarn, not a fragging war. No one has to be in charge here unless we want someone to be. However, until you can prove to not be a little pit spawn, I think I’ll handle things.” Prowl leaned over the tank, a smirk on his face. He was pretty sure the other was glaring at him, but the mask made it so hard to tell. Prowl curled a few digits under the edge of the mask and tugged lightly. “You should take this damn thing off. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You little-” Tarn couldn’t even get words out. No one had ever dared talk to him like that and it left him glossa tied and confused. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Lord Megatron-”

“Threw you out because you were constantly annoying him?” Prowl interrupted, smirk still firmly in place. He could feel how flustered Tarn was and there was an undercurrent of lust in his EM Field. “There’s no need to keep this ridiculous thing on in the berth, Tarn. We are bonded after all. I think I deserve to see your face.”

A blush worked its way onto Tarn’s cheeks. The Autobot Tactician had no right to be so demanding and sexy? Primus, he was attractive. Tarn shook his helm trying to focus better on what the smaller mech had said. “He didn’t throw me out. He knew I would be the best choice for this mission.”

Prowl snorted and resisted the urge to roll his optics. “More like this was the best way to get rid of you and keep you out of his business, Tarn.” Prowl pushed Tarn back against the berth, throwing a leg over the tank’s hips and settling back so he could grind against the other’s modesty panel.

The tankformer’s engine gave a sharp rev and Prowl’s lip curled even more. Prowl curled his digits underneath the lip of Tarn’s mask and gave it a sharp tug. Tarn gasped before glaring at the other mech. 

“Stop that. And he wasn’t trying to get rid of me. What about you? Annoy the Prime too much?” Tarn snapped back.

“My methods differed with Optimus’ so I’m sure he wanted to get me out of his office for long enough to replace me with Ultra Magnus. But Megatron isn’t going to be replacing you with anyone. He likely doesn’t want another fanatic hanging off of his plating.”

Tarn started to sit back up. “I never clung to him,” Tarn started but was quickly pushed back down. Prowl tugged on the mask again.

“Off, now. I’m not ‘facing you with this ridiculous thing on your face.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” Tarn muttered, glaring up at Prowl through his blushing. The Praxian was still grinding their panels together and Tarn was having a difficult time focusing on what the mech was saying and keeping his panel from snapping open. He shouldn’t be this revved up.

“It’s ridiculous and you know it. You have the symbol on your chest, why bother wearing it on your face too? It’s overkill, Tarn.” He tugged again and grinned when he heard the clasps click open. He pulled the mask off, chucking it off to the side where it clattered to the ground noisily.

“Don’t just throw it,” Tarn snarled, glaring up at the smirking Praxian.

Prowl fluttered his wings, looking at his bonded’s face for the first time. He was handsome, even with the old scarring on the left side of his face. The lip piercings definitely helped there too. If only they were rings instead of studs. Prowl could fix that later though. 

“That’s better. And I should’ve thrown it in the trash. No, I should incinerate later. When you’re too drunk on charge to do anything about it.”

Tarn just glared, letting his hands rest on the other’s thighs, trying to control his movements. “You wouldn’t dare,” he let a little bit of his power seep into his voice and watched the smirk on Prowl’s face melt into an icy glare.

“I think I will,” Prowl leaned forward, bending over the prone mech to whisper in his audial as he ground their modesty panels together harshly. “You won’t be needing it to impress Megatron anymore. He’s already forgotten about you.”

Prowl sank his denta into Tarn’s audial, pleased by the loud gasp the tank let out. It was followed quickly by a loud click as Tarn’s panel snapped aside. Prowl leaned back up, staring down at this bonded’s face. Tarn’s face was flushed and he refused to look Prowl in optics.

“Really? Just like that? I didn’t think you would be this easy, Tarn.” If anything, Tarn’s face heated even more.


	2. Day 6- Domestic Bliss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's only been six days since they've bonded, but it already looks like there's going to be a lot of trouble in paradise. Tarn is a brat, but so is Prowl and it just so happens Tarn has a lot of enticing piercings that Prowl can't leave alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I think I forget to mention in the previous chapter that this verse is in a royalty kind of setting/universe split between Autobot City-States and Decepticon City-States. I'll probably get into more detail at some point in the future with this...  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Prowl was trying to read his novel, staring at the same page he’d been trying to read for the last ten minutes. He peeked over the top of his datapad to glare at his bonded. Tarn refused to look at Prowl as he shifted again on the chaise lounge, something he’d insisted they add to their new home. They had clashing aesthetics and neither had wanted to move into the other’s home state, so they’d settled on picking out a new manor in the neutral zone between their City-States. It wasn’t ideal. 

Then they had to move all of their things and found out they not only had clashing personalities, but their belongings clashed as well. Tarn was frivolous. He loved having the best things money could afford and Prowl had compared him to Starscream when the mech had tried to cover their berth with the most ridiculous chamois sheets Prowl had ever seen. Tarn had been equally appalled by what he called Prowl’s “complete lack of taste,” which simply meant the Praxian preferred simpler designs and functionality above all else.

They’d had to buy new furniture. Prowl had secretly burnt the berth covers Tarn had brought and feigned ignorance when the mech confronted him about being unable to find them. He wouldn’t, Prowl had made sure to shred them before throwing the ridiculous violet, lacy sheets into the fireplace.

Tarn shifted again and sighed dramatically. Prowl groaned and dropped his datapad to his lap. “What?” 

The royal pain in his aft looked up at him with wide, innocent optics. Prowl didn’t believe the ruse for a second. “Are you really going to spend all day reading?”

Prowl’s optic ridge twitched. “I’ve barely been here for an hour. That’s hardly all day.”

“Don’t you want to spend time together getting to know me better? We’re stuck together now whether we like it or not and I barely know the first thing about you.” Tarn sighed again, shifting to lay down on his side like some dramatic damsel in one of Jazz’s favorite romance novels. It was ridiculous.

“I know you’re overdramatic and frivolous. What else is there to know?” Prowl glared at the other before freezing.

Tarn said something, probably biting and derogatory because he was as much of a brat, if not more so, than Jazz was, but Prowl didn’t hear it. His optics were drawn to Tarn’s narrow waist, right above his hip plating. He’d been too busy that first night to notice them and they’d spent the next few days in a whirlwind of packing and moving and unpacking and avoiding each other that they’d been too exhausted for much more than recharging at night. Tarn shifted again, gesticulating as he spoke, but Prowl ignored him.

“Are those piercings on your hips?”

Tarn went abruptly quiet, frozen in place. Prowl grabbed and placed his datapad off to the side and stood, walking across the room to his bonded quickly. His bonded was looking everywhere but at Prowl. Which was ridiculous, Prowl had already seen some of his other more, private piercings. 

Prowl stopped in front of Tarn and crossed his arms under his bumper. “Tarn,” he laced his voice with as much command as he could.

“No?”

Prowl huffed. “Take your mask off.”

“Wh- what? I’m not taking it off.” Tarn moved to stand, but Prowl quickly shoved him back onto the chaise.

“Take it off, you don’t need the ridiculous thing in our own  _ living room, _ damn it.” His digits grabbed the lip of the mask and tugged again.

“Fine!” Tarn huffed, letting the clasps unlock so the Praxian could remove and chuck it off to the side. The tankformer tried not to flinch too noticeably when he heard it collide with the wall and clatter to the ground.

“Are those hip piercings?” Prowl asked again, optics sharp and focused on the way Tarn was blushing.

Tarn was quiet for a second, optics glancing up at the other before he had to look away. His face heated even more at the lust in Prowl’s gaze. “They are.”

And then Prowl was shoving him back into the chaise lounge, lips pressed firmly and demandingly against his own. Tarn tried to jerk back, but he had nowhere left to go, especially when Prowl started crawling into his lap. The Praxian nipped at his lips, pinched a wire cluster in Tarn’s hip, and then shoved his glossa into the other’s mouth when he gasped. Prowl moaned when their glossae tangled and his brushed over Tarn’s tongue piercing. He pulled back, grinning at the tankformer.

“Anywhere else you have piercings I should know about?” Prowl asked, breathless.

“Why don’t you find out?” Tarn said with more confidence than he felt.

Prowl grinned and slipped off of Tarn’s lap to sink to the floor. “Guess I should start looking for them then?” He asked, leaning down and sucking one of Tarn’s hip piercings into his mouth. 

Tarn’s helm thunked into the back of his chaise lounge with a low moan. His optics slipped shut. Prowl was going to kill him one of these days, he was sure of it.


	3. Day 19- Making a List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl is working on a very important list. A list that's filled with every single one of Tarn's many buttons. There's a lot, but Prowl is certain he will be able to find all of the things that make Tarn tick and come undone before too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but I had a few things I needed to work on, end of semester stuff, and last month was NaNoWriMo on top of it all... I'll be working on these snippets off an on between other projects though.

Prowl sank down all the way slowly, sighing when his hips met Tarn’s. The tank let out an annoyed huff and yanked on the cuffs keeping his arms tied to the ring at the head of their berth.

“Is this really that necessary?” He glared at Prowl, but the flush covering half his face kind of ruined the angry look and made him look even more flustered.

Prowl shifted, rolling his pelvis and grinding their arrays together experimentally. “Yes, you’re a brat and can’t be trusted to keep your servos to yourself. You’re also terrible at following orders. It’s no wonder Megatron got rid of you as soon as he could. Your array is really your only redeeming quality.”

The Praxian smirked at his bonded and watched his face flush even more somehow. It was so easy to pluck at all of Tarn’s strings and play him now. Sure, Prowl was still finding things out, but he’d found the major buttons rather quickly. Tarn just grumbled but it turned into a moan when Prowl started to rise off the tank’s spike. 

“I should get a gag for you at some point; although I will miss your singing when we do this. You complain too much though. It’s honestly no wonder Megatron tried his hardest to get rid of you.” Prowl kept his movements slow, watching how Tarn’s face flushed and heated.

Tarn moaned when Prowl seated himself again and ground their arrays together. “I talk too much? You haven’t shut up since we started this.” 

“And there you go ruining another good thing, can’t you keep quiet for more than a klik?” Prowl smirked, a thought coming to him suddenly. “If you prove you can listen to me, I’ll rethink that gag idea, but you have to prove yourself first. Keep your mouth shut for the next five kliks and I’ll let you thrust into me however much you want.”

Tarn’s whole frame shivered at the promise and he nodded, biting his lip at the reply that wanted to come. Prowl smirked, moving as slowly as he could manage. Tarn’s hips wiggled ineffectively, the restraints holding his ankles to the berth kept him perfectly in place. 

“One,” Prowl said flatly, lowering himself once again. He ground their arrays together, flexing his valve and grinning at the drawn-out moan it pulled from Tarn.

“Two,” he rose almost completely off Tarn’s spike and stopped. Tarn glared and Prowl leered down at his bonded.

“Three,” Prowl dropped his weight, impaling himself on Tarn’s spike and moaning at the feeling. Tarn tossed his helm back with a choked off scream, whole frame trembling as Prowl picked up his pace and started fucking himself on Tarn’s spike.

“Four,” he managed to pant out, leaning his weight against Tarn’s abdomen as he bounced on the tank’s spike. Prowl could feel his overload getting closer, charge crackling over his plating. Tarn bit his lower lip, whimpering and moaning.

“Five,” Prowl cried out and slammed his hips into Tarn’s, frame convulsing as his overload burst through his frame. The Praxian shivered, panting harshly as he came back to himself. He opened his optics and grinned lazily at Tarn who was still shivering with unspent charge.

“Well, look who managed to keep their mouth shut the whole time.” Prowl purred.

“Shut up and untie me already.” Tarn managed to snap out, or at least tried to. It came out much closer to begging than an actual demand.

Prowl laughed, squeezing his calipers and moaning when Tarn tried to thrust into him. “I never said anything about untying you. Only your pedes and only if you behaved yourself, which I guess you did.” 

Prowl leaned over and grabbed the remote to the cuffs he’d used to tie Tarn’s pedes to their berth. “Do you really deserve to be let loose yet?” Prowl asked, circling his hips slowly and watching the way Tarn’s optics flickered and flared. He smirked. “Can’t speak yet? You haven’t even overloaded, but I can  _ feel  _ your spike pulsing in my valve right now.”

“Please, Prowl” Tarn whimpered.

A smile spread across Prowl’s face. He started to move again, slowly moving himself up and down Tarn’s straining spike. He hit the release button for the cuffs around Tarn’s pedes and leaned forward, bracing himself against the treads on Tarn’s shoulders. “You’ve been so good for once, keeping your mouth shut.”

Tarn’s optics flared and he shifted his legs, getting his pedes under himself before he started thrusting into Prowl. Prowl moaned, dropping his helm between his arms and as he pushed back into each thrust. His optics had closed at some point and he powered them back on to watch Tarn. The tank was right on the edge and Prowl smirked, optics sharpening suddenly.

“You can overload now for being so good for me tonight.” Prowl said.

That did it. Tarn flung his helm back, yanking on his cuffed arms and crying out. His hips thrust a few more times into Prowl’s valve, wild and uncoordinated, before Prowl felt the warm rush of charged transfluid over his nodes. Prowl was pushed into a second, weaker overload, moaning into Tarn’s throat cables and shaking as he rode it out. He panted, felt Tarn’s entire frame relax, and then dropped back to the berth underneath him, and looked up at the hazy look on the tank’s face.

“Well, I can add praise kink to the list now.” Prowl sat up, shivering in pleasure when his bonded’s spike slipped out of his valve. Transfluid oozed out of him and dripped onto Tarn’s abdomen. 

It took a few deep vents before Tarn was able to look up and glare at Prowl. “Why the frag are you keeping a damn list?” He snapped.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Prowl asked with a raised optic ridge. “Besides, I thought lists were something you liked.”

“You’re horrible,” Tarn muttered.

Prowl leaned forward and patted Tarn’s cheek patronizingly. “Not nearly as horrible as you are.” 

Prowl swung his leg over Tarn’s waist and slipped off the berth, walking toward their wash racks. Tarn blinked at the ceiling and then turned his head quickly to watch Prowl’s retreating back and doorwings. “Wait! Aren’t you going to untie me first?” Tarn called.

The Praxian paused in the doorway and smirked over a wing at his bonded. “You weren’t that good, Tarn. Plus, you haven’t asked nicely yet. I’ll let you go as soon as I get your transfluid out of my valve.”


End file.
